Twisted Every Way
by trapdoorluver
Summary: This is a short story, based on a twisted Phantom of the Opera dream I had...a couple nights ago. Please Review!


**A Strange Dream…**

I sat, barely gripping the pencil that slid itself in between my fingers. My skeleton limbs lightly wrapped around the tiny piece of wood, grazing the chipped yellow paint. I lowered it to my desk, ready to write. As it reached its destination, I found no lead. It had broken off, lost somewhere under my desk. I sighed, and lowered myself to glance under the desk.

My head dropped under the table, then the rest of my body followed. Soon I found myself falling down a dark passageway, twisting and twirling. I was unable to control my body. Dull pencils and blank papers fell from the bottom, as if a fan was propelling them upward. I reached for the surface from which I came. It was no use; I would not be able to return.

Time passed, and I kept falling. Falling down a never-ending hole. But suddenly my bottom hit a hard surface, startling my brain and awakening my senses. I glanced around, still in complete darkness, feeling around with my arms. I could feel nothing but cold, lifeless tile. I slowly got on my hands and knees, and began to crawl to my left, still feeling around with my limbs.

As I crawled, nothing appeared to be in the room. Suddenly the lights turned on, and I found myself in a ballroom, an empty ballroom. I saw no exit, no windows, just walls and tile.

"Welcome, my dear." said a soft voice, which seemed to be coming from the ceiling. I looked up, attempting to find the voice. By this time my heart had begun to thump with uncontrollable passion, commanding me to find an exit, an escape.

"Who are you?! What do you want?!" I screamed. He must have sensed my fear for he let a laugh escape himself. An evil laughter. I despised him, I did not know him, yet I dispised him with a strong passion.

"Oh, my child. You are so innocent, so young." A laugh came from him again, this time softer, more friendly. "I chose well, I knew I had. I knew you would be just like her." I looked up to the ceiling again, searching for the source of the voice.

He continued, "Oh, my dear. There is no use looking for me, you may never find me. My voice's source is no hint." I closed my eyes, attempting to better hear him, better to hear where he was. "I can throw my voice, my child. Just watch." He continued talking, this time the voice came from the opposite side of the ballroom. Then it traveled to the far corner, then to the wall I was facing. It bounced around the room, back and forth. My head began pounding. Instead of a voice, it turned to laughter. His evil laughter.

"Stop! Please-" Tears came to my eyes, I closed them. "Please, stop." I pleaded. "Where are you? Show yourself. What do you want with me?"

"Child, it is not what I want with you that is important. It is what destiny, what fate wants with the _two_ of us." His voice now seemed weak, such a change from his original strong, masculine one. "And as for showing myself, well I am not sure if that is what you want." Suddenly pity drilled into my heart. His voice all of a sudden was sad, like he had been hurt before.

"At least tell me your name." I pleaded. He sighed, an unsure sigh. It seemed he was trying to decide if that was the right thing to do. "Erik." He said, as if ashamed of the name. "That is a beautiful name. Erik." The tears dried in my eyes, and no longer came. They dispersed completely. "Jordan-" he began. I said, 'yes' and he cautiously said, "We are to get married." He seemed to be crying. His voice began to become strong again. "I don't even know you. All I know is that your name is Erik and you won't show me your face!" I screamed, suddenly angry at his comment. I startled myself with the tone of my voice.

"You will be married to me! You cannot refuse me, no. You can't refuse me like she did. Oh, Jordan. You are so beautiful, you look just like her. I searched forever, and when I thought I had lost hope, you arrived. You filled me with such joy, such passion for life." His voice softened again.

"I look just like who? You want to marry me because I look like someone? That is stupid, insane!" My frustration grew stronger.

"You look like-" He stopped, and seemed to be crying again. "Christine." He whispered.

"Who the hell is Christine?" I said angrily.

"The love of my life, my Christine. She was stolen from me. Oh, child. Don't you understand? You must marry me. You are exactly like her. Strong, passionate, beautiful. Not only looks, well that is what I thought it was about before, but-" I cut him off quickly. "No more, I don't know you, I can't marry you. To me it sounds as if you lost your girlfriend and you found someone who looks like her and now you think you fell in love again. But you didn't. You didn't! You don't know me." A long silence, I must have hurt him. Deep within my soul, I ached for him. My body churned with fear and compassion.

"No, Jordan. It began with your looks, your beautiful brown hair, your green eyes that seemed endless, and your soft, pale skin. But it evolved into much more. Love. As I watched you, watched you write, sing, read, I realized something. I love you. Not her, you." He stopped, took in a deep breathe and continued, "Please love me."


End file.
